Please
by AlidaHush
Summary: Post Destiny. There's a Slayer in LA that the Senior Partners have their eyes on and it's up to Spike and Angel to find her. But when they do, will they be ready to deal with the hard choice she brings with her?
1. Chapter 1

"Please"

By: AlidaHush

**Summary:** Season 5. Post-Destiny. There's a Slayer in LA that the Senior Partners have their eyes on and it's up to Spike and Angel to find her. But when they do, will they be ready to deal with the hard choices she brings with her?

**Disclaimer:** Don't own them. Wish to hell I did. Enjoy the torture.

**Distribution:** Go for it. Make sure you link me though.

Chapter One

The office was bustling, as usual. People walked by, ignored him and kept walking. He was well used to being a phantom in the office by now. Even after getting his nice shiny solidity back, people still walked right through him as if he wasn't there. The only time he was there was when Angel needed him for something…

"Spike! Get in here."

_Case and point…_

Spike sighed and followed the voice of his Sire, which led him into the enormous sterile office. Inside stood the entire group of lackeys, all looking downright pissed and waiting for Angel to say his piece. Angel himself had his hands planted on his hips like he was going to break himself in two. The scowl was ever present and his eyes narrowed as Spike sauntered in.

Spike sneered slightly in reply and then plopped down in the red armchair in front of Angel's desk.

"Good. Now that we're all here," Angel began, his voice dripping with false happiness.

_Oh, he's in a right mood…_

"There's been reports of a Slayer in town." he said, finally unclamping his hands from his waist and putting them on the desk in front of him. He leaned down, transferring the weight from his feet to his hands.

"A Slayer, eh? They finally gonna give you your retirement bonus now?" Spike asked, chuckling at the glare that Angel shot him.

"Eve tells me that the Senior Partners need her for something. So, we're supposed to go and retrieve her." Angel continued, pulling himself up straight and giving Eve a little look.

"A Slayer?" Wesley asked, crossing his arms over his chest. "What do the Senior Partners want with a Slayer? That's Watcher territory."

"Didn't say. But, I'm not really in a position to question. What the Senior Partners do isn't my concern." Angel said darkly.

"Oh, right, 'cause you're _not_ the CEO of their evil law firm." Spike said shortly, shifting so that his hands rested on his knees.

"Spike, shut up."

"I'm just sayin', Starsky an' bleedin' Hutch rooting around in the mortal coil's got to mean something."

"I wasn't asking you." Angel ground out, his eyes narrowing again. Spike scoffed and stood swiftly to his feet.

"He does have a point, Angel." Wesley piped up before Spike could turn and go. "Perhaps we should look a bit more deeply into the matter. She's a _Slayer_."

Angel sighed and looked at Eve out of the corner of his eye.

"Eve? You think you can get a bead on what they want with her?" he finally asked, turning his whole head to face her. She sighed and shrugged.

"I can try. But, talking to the Big Boys is like getting blood from a stone." she explained, uncrossing her legs and standing from her seat on the sofa. Spike gave her a dark look. Angel's look wasn't far behind. In reply, Eve rolled her eyes.

"Fine. I'm on it." she sighed, crossing the room to the door. Wes watched her go, his eyes following her all the way out into the lobby.

"I don't much trust her." Wes admitted, glancing at Fred. She nodded slightly.

"Me neither." Angel whispered, arms now crossed over his chest. Spike shrugged and looked out into the lobby.

"I don't mind her." he said, cocking his head with a smile. When he looked back at Angel, he was glaring. Spike just smiled back.

_Continued.._


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

"We'll start the sweep on the west end of town. The Seers said that she was there about week ago. At least it's a start." Angel said, packing a few things into a bag on his office table. Spike leaned against the wall of the office, half asleep.

"Wont find her there, mate." he said, his eyes still closed, arms crossed over his chest. Angel looked up from his packing and cocked his head.

"Why not?" he asked heatedly. Spike opened one eye and glanced at his Sire, smiling slightly.

"She already knows you're after her. She's scampered."

"And how do you know that, exactly?" Angel barked, turning and facing his Childe. He stiffly crossed his own arms over his chest, trying hard to look threatening. Spike had to admit, it usually worked. However, this time Spike was unphased and just closed his eye again.

"Wes said she was a psychic didn' he?"

Angel froze slightly and then relaxed a little, shrugging. He hadn't thought of that. He starred slightly at the floor, formulating a new plan.

_Bully for me…_

"We'll track her scent." Angel said, improvising quickly.

"No. _You'll_ track her scent. I'm not bloody well goin' anywhere."

Suddenly, he heard Angel drop something and grunt. Spike opened his eyes in time to see his Sire flying at him from across the room. He braced against the wall quickly and felt Angel's fingers wrap around his neck. Like an idiot, he reached up and clawed at the fingers bruising into his windpipe.

"_We'll_ track her scent." he growled.

Spike opened his mouth to say something and Angel squeezed harder. His eyes rolled back into his skull and he dug harder with his own fingers against the constriction. Angel didn't let go. Spike remembered when Angel would play this game with him. But that was a long time ago and usually by now he was on the floor laughing and gasping at his Sire's rage.

But Angel only squeezed harder and Spike began to panic. Angel could snap his neck off if he really wanted to and Spike didn't doubt that he would.

In protest, he made a strangled noise with whatever voice he could project and clamped a hand down on Angel's wrist. Through watering eyes he watched the emotions play on his Sire's face. The last one he settled on was confusion.

The fingers quickly released and Angel suddenly stepped back as if he were just waking up. He blinked and looked down at his hands.

Spike fell to the floor in a heap, choking and swearing into the carpet. He didn't need to breathe, but he hated not being able too. It was one reflex he had never learned to be rid of and he felt like he was drowning when he couldn't breathe.

It was a long time before Spike even thought about getting off the floor or even looking up. But when he did, he saw that Angel was crouched down beside him.

"Ponce." Spike rasped, gingerly touching the bruising around his neck. The hold had been stronger than anything Spike had ever received from his Sire and he had to admit, deep down, it frightened him.

"I'm sorry." Angel said blankly, still looking intently at his Childe. "I—" he reached a tentative hand out. Spike jerked back quickly.

"Don't touch me. " he replied shortly, breathe still finding it hard to come out of his destroyed throat. He looked shortly at Angel and saw that his face was riddled with worry. It was almost like he wasn't in control of what he had just done. Like he wasn't sure he had even choked Spike at all.

_Since when's he ever sorry?_ Spike wondered, fingering the bruises again. He could tell they were going to blossom into a deep purple and he wasn't pleased about that.

"Get on with it then." he snapped, standing and pressing his free hand against the wall for support. Angel still looked lost in his own head, but he managed to pick the bag up off the table and head for the door.

Spike followed grudgingly behind.

The car ride was silent for the most part. However, when the black Jag rounded the corner of a dark ally, Angel cut the engine and turned to face his passenger. He noticed the black bruises circling Spike's throat like a horrific necklace.

"How's your neck?" Angel asked in a flat tone, shifting in his seat uncomfortably. He was trying hard not to sound like he cared. Spike scoffed and shook his head.

"S'alright. Don' know why you did it though." Spike said softly, looking purposely out the window. He heard Angel sigh and put his hands on the wheel.

"Me neither." he replied truthfully. "It's like I was doing it, but _I_ wasn't." he looked down at his lap and restlessly brought his hands off the steering wheel. Spike glanced over, his eyes narrowed.

"Mind tryin' to explain that again _without_ the brain tease?" Spike asked, lifting an eyebrow. Angel smiled slightly.

"Someone was in my head, Spike. Someone was making me do that." he looked Spike in the eyes. He wasn't lying.

"In your head?"

"Yeah. Seemed like." he sighed, looking out the windshield into the ink of night.

The memory of last year suddenly surfaced in Spike's mind before he had a chance to cap it off and he had to close his eyes in order to keep it from playing out in front of him. _In his head…_

"_The First…?"_

"_It's a trigger…"_

"_Either we're together, or I'm on the leash…"_

"Yeah," Spike looked out the window again. "I get that."


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The door to the bar swung wide and Spike stepped inside. He felt the musty air and stale beer slap him in the face. He smiled in spite of himself and took a wide look around. Several seedy looking demons were eyeballing him, but once they caught wind that he was a vampire, they went back to their drinks and pool games.

As Spike sauntered up to the bar, Angel took a glance around himself. Several demons were still starring at him. They knew who he was. Anything even close to being related to a demon knew who Angel was.

"Lookin' for a girl. A Slayer." Angel heard Spike say to the barkeep. The short, little man nodded and picked up a ratty bar towel, twirling it in his meaty fingers.

"Couple a' days ago. Two demons down by the docks ran into her. A nut, that one." he said, shaking his head.

"Any idea where she's headed?"

"Only thing I'll tell you is the boys don't go down ta those docks no more." the bartender said, swiping the towel over the counter in front of Spike. He turned and faced Angel, nodding slightly and then turned away from the bar.

"Looks like the docks are our best bet." Angel whispered, eyes still roaming through the bar. He looked like he was looking for someone. Spike followed his gaze for a minute, but grew wary of the glowers he was receiving.

"Come on, mate." Spike said, heading for the door. Angel didn't follow.

Spike sighed and leaned in to his ear. "Will you stop gawkin' and come on?"

Angel nodded slightly and finally turned toward the door. Spike rolled his eyes and quickly walked back the way he'd come. The Jag was parked about a block west of the bar. Angel was too much of a wanker to park it on the street. God forbid anyone breathed on it.

"What the bleedin' hell was that? You trying to get us killed?" Spike asked once they were clear of the bar's neon lights. Angel narrowed his eyes toward Spike and shook his head. "Bloody starrin' at everyone…" he mumbled to himself, looking up and down the street and shoving his hands into his coat pockets.

Suddenly, he felt a light pressure at the back of his neck and he flinched away from it. As he spun around to face the attacker, he saw that it was Angel. Some part of him briefly wondered why Angel always went for his neck...

The same look of rage painted his features and he glared at Spike with something akin to hatred. He had his hand outstretched still from where he had rested his fingers on Spike's neck.

"What are you—" Spike stammered, backing away as Angel took a step forward.

"Don't tell me what to do, boy." he said, voice smooth and even. The only difference was that the words were coming centuries too late. The words were Angelus' and they made something in Spike scream. After pushing down the predatory nature of fight or flight, Spike narrowed his eyes at his sire; ready.

_Another bloody attack…_ he thought, remembering what Angel had said in the car about the control he lost when he attacked Spike earlier. Angel advanced on his Childe and he, in turn, stood his ground.

"You wont find me." Angel whispered, starring at a place just behind Spike. "Stop looking."

Spike turned quickly to see who Angel was talking too, but there was just a dirty ally wall and open air. Looking back at his Sire, Spike saw a brief look of agony cross his face. Something was ing with him and they were doing a right good job of it too. Spike drew in a deep breathe and balled his fists.

_Gotta do this just right,_ he thought, looking at the place just bellow Angel's right eye. If he hit him just right, he could knock him off his feet. Maybe knock some sense into him while he was at it. His fingers tingled at the prospect of actually getting to his Angel...

"I can read your thoughts." Angel continued, still speaking to the ally wall. Spike smirked slightly and took the opportunity to launch himself at Angel's face.

Without so much as a second's notice, Angel's hand came up and blocked the blow aimed at his face. He quickly brought his other arm up and caught Spike directly under his jaw. His head snapped back and blood flooded his mouth as he tripped back and fell onto the pavement. Dazed, he turned his head and spat out a mouthful of blood.

"Leave me alone!" Angel screamed, standing over Spike. He snarled, vamped out and grabbed Spike by his shirt. Quickly, Spike brought his knee up into Angel's groin and slammed his other boot into the side of his head. Angel stumbled back, snarling. Spike didn't need another opportunity. He scrambled to his feet, wiping blood from his mouth. But, before he could charge again, he saw something move out of the corner of his eye. Angel growled and roared madly forward. Spike quickly sidestepped and turned toward where he saw the movement.

Suddenly, out of the dark, a pair of hands grabbed him by the shoulders and ran him into the ally wall. His face connected with brick and he felt something snap near his right eye. Through hazy thoughts, he felt himself being peeled from the wall and slammed into it again. This time he heard a crunch. Crunching sounds were never good. They usually meant a messy break or a shatter; not the clean snap of a broken bone. Whoever was using his face to knock down the wall obviously had some strength behind them. But it wasn't Angel. Angel was somewhere behind him, he knew, stumbling and wondering how the hell he got where he was.

_Enough of this…_he thought after the second blow. He had just enough time before his face hit the brick again to bring his arms back and grip the wrists over his shoulders. He used as much power as he could to twist himself around and bring him face to face with his attacker.

When he had accomplished what he had intended to do, he noticed that his attacker was not only small, but she was a she. The girl screamed and twisted her wrists toward Spike's thumbs, breaking the hold and pulling back. She was about to hit him again, but Spike reached out and grabbed her by her wrists again.

_Sorry love, done gettin' knocked around by women,_ he said to himself, tossing her as far as he could away from him. She landed in the flood of a lamplight about three feet away.

Spike was right. Angel was standing around looking lost. He was looking down at his hands and then at the girl crumpled on the ground. After a minute, Angel glanced his way.

"Wha—?" he asked, narrowing his eyes.

Spike didn't say anything to him. He was gathering his senses as the crumpled body came around. She pushed up on her hands and flipped her hair out of her face. Spike could easily read the rage in her eyes; it was the same rage that Angel had showed him not five minutes before.

"Think we found our girl."' Spike replied triumphantly. He watched as the young girl eyeballed Angel.

"Vampire." she whispered, smiling slightly at him. Angel just looked down at her with something akin to wonder.

"Slayer?" Spike asked, cocking his head sarcastically.

"I kill you." she said, still using the same whisper.

"No," Spike said, reaching up and fingering his broken cheek. He was right, it was shattered. He could feel it when he spoke. Whenever his lips moved, something sharp poked into his vision. "But almost."

Angel glanced at Spike. No one said anything for a long time after that. The girl didn't move, but she had her eyes trained on Angel the whole time.

"Isn't this about the time you call in the big guns?" Spike asked after a minute. Angel narrowed his eyes and reached for his cell phone, but didn't take his eyes off him. Spike had a feeling he was looking at his cheek. It was bleeding pretty heavily by now. And it hurt.

"Vampire Slayer." the girl on the ground said. Spike rolled his eyes. Suddenly, she snarled and lept to her feet, knocking the cell phone out of Angel's hand. She punched him cleanly in the chest, sending him backwards a few steps. Angel vamped out and countered, launching forward to lock and arm around her throat. She kicked and snarled in his grasp, but he wouldn't let her go. She may have been a Slayer, but she had never learned to use her power the right way. Angel had the advantage in this fight.

"Ok. I'm pretty much done with this." Angel said into her ear, her struggles becoming panicked. Spike chuckled and walked in front of her to pick the phone up off the ground. He could hear Wesley on the other end saying, "Hello? Angel…?"

He was about to put it to his ear and answer when the Slayer raised her left hand, the one not holding onto Angel's arm, and pointed over Spike's shoulder. She smiled between her panicked breaths and nodded. Spike raised and eyebrow and turned around. He watched in confused wonder as the fire escape of the nearest building was ripped off it's foundations and launched through the air.

It clattered across the pavement toward him, sparks lighting up the dirty ally.

Before it slammed into him, he remembered thinking how good it was going to feel to kick the crap out of her…

_Continued..._


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four

"…don't move yet." someone said close to his ear. He felt a hand at the back of his head and his eyes flickered open. Through bleary vision he saw Angel standing over him. He wasn't concerned; more pissed off. As his eyes began to clear, he tried to sit up. Nothing really hurt him too badly, except for his face. Angel stayed crouched where he was and helped Spike to sit up.

"It went through your leg, so try not to move it till I can get it out." Angel said, nodding. Spike looked down at himself and saw what Angel was talking about. A five foot bar of metal was jutting out of his upper thigh at a strange angle. That's when it started to hurt. Angel chuckled slightly when he saw Spike wince.

"Doesn't ever hurt until you look at it, does it?" Angel asked, pressing his hand just to the left of the wound. Spike winced again.

"Where is she?" he asked, glancing around the dark alley. Angel looked over his shoulder at the girl slumped against the chain link fence a few feet away.

"After you got hit, she just passed out. Not really sure what happened."

"Did you call Wes?"

"Yeah, they're on their way. Now shut up." Angel said, looking back down at Spike's leg. Spike turned his head away toward the girl.

"On three."

"Just bloody well do it." he snapped. Angel smiled slightly and nodded. He wrapped his fingers around the bar of metal, and with the other hand kept pressing to the left of it for balance.

"One. Two. Three." Angel pressed down on Spike's leg and yanked at the bar with the other. The metal slid out cleanly and Spike convulsed back against the wall.

"Uh…god." Spike mumbled, closing his eyes. When the pain subsided, he looked down at his leg and watched the blood trickle lazily out of the wound. Angel pressed his hand against it.

"Please don't faint until Wes gets here." he said sarcastically. Spike pursed his lips and flashed his Sire two fingers.

"Right hero you are."

"Just helping the helpless." Angel replied, smirking.

"I told you I should have gone with you." Wes said as he watched the Slayer being lifted into the van. Spike leaned against the side of it, favoring his bad leg. His arms were crossed over his chest and he was squinting down at the unconscious girl.

"It's better that you didn't. Someone could have gotten hurt."

"Someone did."

"Better him than you." Angel said coldly, watching as Spike limped toward the Jag, using the van's hood to support him. Pressing his fingers over the bridge of his nose, Angel headed for the driver's side and fished the keys out of his pocket.

"I'll meet you in Medical when we get back. Make sure she's contained." Angel said, waiting for Wesley to nod before he opened the door and slid onto the leather. Spike was already in the passenger seat, head back against the rest.

"Don't bleed all over my car." Angel said, putting the key in the ignition. Spike didn't say anything and Angel briefly wondered if he'd passed out. But after a minute, blue eyes opened and gave him a weary look.

"Just drive, Gramps."

_Continued..._


	5. Chapter 5

Chapter Five

The medical ward was far too sterile for Angel's taste. It smelled like antiseptic and death. He remembered a time when one of those smells wouldn't have bothered him, but today it just annoyed him instead.

"She came awake as soon as we arrived. She hasn't shown any hostile signs, but she hasn't said anything either." Wes reported as Angel entered the ward. He had his arms crossed over his chest again and he was scowling. Wes tried to ignore Angel's mood and pressed him for answers.

"Who is she, Angel?"

"A Slayer."

"Yes, I know that," he said curtly. "What exactly happened?" he rephrased, motioning toward the bed the girl was sitting on. She was looking down at her toes, wiggling them and swinging her legs passively. Angel didn't answer for a long time and Wes was beginning to give up hope.

"She was in my head, Wes." he said finally, still looking at the girl on the bed. Wesley sighed and nodded thoughtfully.

"She's a psychic, Angel. She can do that."

"Not just in my head; she was controlling what I did. She almost got me to kill Spike." Angel replied, turning to face Wes with a bit of worry clouding his glower. Wesley just sighed again and looked through the window at the Slayer.

"All quips on Spike aside, she must be quite a powerful psychic. Not many can actually access the motor skills in ones brain." he said softly. Angel nodded in reply. There was a long pause of silence while they watched a nurse bustle about the small room.

"I was wondering how the bruises came about." Wes said suddenly. It was a statement, not a question.

"Bruises?"

"On his neck. I understand the shattered cheekbone and the wound in his thigh, but the bruises seemed out of place." Wes pointed out, leaning against the window of the ward. It unnerved Angel that the only thing between him and a deadly psychic was a sheet of glass. He thought he remembered telling Wesley to contain her…

"Not really. Not when it comes to Spike." he said simply, refusing to look at his friend. Wesley didn't say anything and decided to skip the History of William and Angelus for one night. There was always more time for that later. In any case, the nurse was finished with her duties and pushed open the glass doowr, a small smile playing on her lips.

"She's talking if you'd like to see her, sir." the nurse said as she came out of the room. Wesley nodded at her and held the door open for Angel as they walked through. The girl quickly eyeballed Angel, but her sight ultimately came to rest on Wes. There was silence between the three and Wesley was the first one to finally break it.

"My name is Wesley—"

"Pryce. Your name is Pryce. And he's Angel." she said quickly. Without taking her eyes off Wesley, she lifted a slender finger and pointed at Angel.

"Yes," he replied slowly. "I suppose I can skip the details since you already appear to know them." Wesley glanced at a rigid Angel briefly before moving a bit closer to the girl.

"I knew you were looking for me."

"Yes. We know."

"My name is Angela." she said softly, bringing her hand back to her lap and away from Angel.

Wesley nodded and lightly sat down next to her. "Do you know why we came looking for you Angela?" he asked softly, his voice even as if he were speaking to a child.

"Yes. You want to send me away, so I can be a weapon. But you don't know that they'll kill you. I'll kill you." she said conversationally. Angel took a step forward, but Wesley held up his hand and he stopped.

"I'm not crazy. I know that's what you're all thinking because…well, because I can see it." she said, laughing a little. "But I'm not. I'm sane and regular like the rest of you. You don't know what the Senior Partners will do with me, but I do. I can stop this before it starts. That's why I ran away. I can see the future, but that doesn't mean it can't change." she explained. Wesley looked at Angel and made a little 'follow me' gesture with his head. They made their way for the door, closing it with a click behind them.

Wesley made a motion across the window, "I'm not exactly sure what she's talking about but--"

"What do the Partners want with her?" Angel asked, cutting him off.

"Well, if she's able to control people as you say, there's plenty they can want with her. She's right. She could become quite a weapon." Wesley explained, glancing through the glass again.

"Then we don't turn her over." Angel said simply. Wes shook his head with a sigh.

"It's not that simple, Angel. They'll find her. You know they will."

"Not if we keep her from them."

Wesley looked sideways at Angel for a moment. "A few hours ago, you were happily entertaining the thought of finding this girl and sending her on her way. Now, all of a sudden, you can't stand the idea of turning her over to the Senior Partners. What happened out their Angel? What's going on?"

"Nothing happened, Wes. Give her a room and make sure there's surveillance on her 24/7." Angel snapped coldly. He narrowed his eyes through the window for a moment, then left the Ward without a sound.

_Continued..._


	6. Chapter 6

Chapter Six

His face felt like it was on fire. He couldn't move his jaw without having pain shoot up the side of his face in white hot stabs.

_Bloody wonderful. Take weeks to heal,_ he thought, sitting down gingerly on the edge of the bed and stretching out his leg in front of him. The wound was closing nicely, but the muscle beneath was sore and raw. He thought briefly about asking someone to look at his cheek, but then wondered if they could really do anything about it. His eye was swollen shut and the bone beneath was broken into a few nice pieces. He'd had worse. Hell, Buffy saw to that…

Closing what was left of his vision, he leaned back and lay down on the bed. He thought about undressing and properly getting into it, but the pain was making him feel less and less like caring. It had taken all most all the energy out of him to ask Angel for a place to stay and by the time he made it up to the room, his reserves were fried. It was just better to sleep.

Just as he was about to drift off, a warning sounded at the edge of his conciousness and his eyes opened to stare into the darkness of the room. Someone was standing just inside the door. He pressed his hands into the mattress and propped himself up to see better. After a moment of silence and no movement, he slumped back a little bit, wondering if he'd imagined it.

"I'm sorry." a small voice pronounced from the doorway. Spike squinted in the darkness and saw the outline of a young girl.

_Oh, hell…_

"For what, love?" he asked cautiously, wondering if the Slayer was going to royally thrash him again. He chuckled at the thought and realized that that wouldn't really be tough to do in his condition.

The girl stepped forward into a bath of moonlight and he could see her blonde hair catch a few drops of it. Her expression was calm, almost wary, as if she were about to ask permission for something. When she was close enough to him to be able to see his face, her expression changed to guilt.

"For this." she whispered, reaching out a hand and touching a rather deep gash just below his eye. He didn't flinch away, but he did keep a watchful eye on her as she traced the bruises on his cheek. "I didn't mean to hurt you so much." she continued, absorbed in her ministrations.

"Be healed in a week." he replied. At that she chuckled and dropped her hand.

"Spike." she smiled. Just a smile. She didn't mean anything by calling his name. It was just his name, that was all.

"An' what do I call you, love?" he asked, watching her smile fade as she turned slightly away from him.

"Angela."

Spike nodded and watched as she walked over to the window where the blinds were half drawn. They were open just enough to let the innocent slates of moonlight light the floor.

"How's your leg?" she asked, looking out at the city below. Spike narrowed his eyes a little before answering.

"Hurts."

"I guess it would."

"Does Angel know you're here?" Spike asked quickly before she could go on. She chuckled at that.

"Angel doesn't know much."

"Bloody right." he agreed.

"And in answer to your question: no. He gave me a room, but I like it better here." she replied, reaching up a hand to push the blinds down a little. "It's so pretty up here." she stood a moment longer, then turned again back to Spike.

"You should have someone look at you." she suggested, standing in front of him again. Spike just sighed and shrugged.

"Wont do much. Best to just let it heal up on it's own."

With that look of shame and guilt, Angela reached out again and cupped the side of his face. She pressed down a little on his cheek with her thumb. He let out a little yelp and slapped her hand away before she could do any more damage.

"Hey! Watch it." he chided, leaning back away from her. She pulled her hand quickly back and nodded.

"You need to set this."

"I'm fine." he assured her harshly, narrowing his eyes again. His vision was a little better when he did that. Silently he watched through slanted vision as Angela dropped her hand to her side and moved to sit down next to him.

"Next week you'll have to break it again because the bone just beneath your eye will have set wrong. Fred'll do it because you don't trust Angel enough to break it in the right place. It will swell back up and you'll lose the vision in your eye for two months." she said simply, as if reciting a memorized speech. Spike cocked his head slightly in disbelief.

There was a long moment of silence. Spike looked like he'd been slapped. Finally he raised an eyebrow and huffed in defeat.

"Right. Set it." he said curtly, turning a little so that it was more comfortable to look at her.

"This might hurt."

Spike nodded.

Angela cupped his cheek with her left hand and put her right hand behind his head. "I wont count to three. I know you hate that." she whispered as she placed her thumb just below the bone in question. Spike braced himself for the hard crack he knew was coming.

The pressure on the back of his head increased and her thumb sank into the bruised skin. With a quick jerking motion she brought the sunken bone back to the surface with an audible "pop". Spike seized slightly when a flash of pain shot through his eye and down along the back of his neck. When the motion was finished, her smooth fingers lingered at the back of his head and waited. Spike didn't say anything for a long time and for several minutes he had his eyes closed. Angela wondered if he'd passed out.

When he finally opened his eyes there was a glint of relief.

"Better?"

"A bit."

"Good."

"How'd you know to do that?" he asked suddenly, shifting on the bed again so that her fingers released his head and fell back to her sides.

"I've dealt with broken bones before," she replied, shrugging and looking down into her lap. Spike drew in a deep breathe and fingered his cheek slightly. It felt a little better. A little quieter now that the burning had stopped.

Again there was silence. Spike looked out the windows at the brightly lit town and Angela continued to stare down at her hands. What was there to say? Spike wasn't even sure of the real reason the girl was here. Three hours ago she'd tried to kill him. Three seconds ago she'd saved him a month of agony.

_Everyone's got a story. Somethin' tells me hers ain't all she's tellin'_

_Continued…_


	7. Chapter 7

Chapter Seven

"Don't let them take me, Spike." she suddenly whispered to her lap. If he was anything close to human he would have never heard it.

"What?"

"The Senior Partners. You can't let Angel turn me over to—"

"He's not going to, pet. He already promised he wouldn't." he reassured her, watching helplessly as tears began to form in her eyes.

"It's not safe here. They know I'm here. They already knew Angel would try to hide me. They've been after me since they found out." she continued, making the words a mantra; like she'd said them a hundred times before.

"Found out what?"

"That I can control people. It's a terrible gift and they want it...badly."

"Look, love, maybe Angel could--"

"She told you she loved you. You didn't believe her though." she said suddenly as if the thought had just come to her and she had to get it out. Her eyes locked into Spike's gaze like bolts of steel. Despite the tears that threatened her cheeks, her voice was calm and even as she spoke. Spike leaned back slightly, shocked at the change in conversation.

"Your hands were warm. She remembers thinking that it was like touching something that had been sitting out in the sun too long." she explained, eyes digging into Spike's and refusing to let go.

"Why are you—?"

"She remembers crying for you, dreaming about your death for weeks," Angela's gaze drifted to the floor for a moment. It was a thoughtful gesture. "She still does."

Spike stood up suddenly, backing away as best he could. The limp made him stumble, but he managed to grip a near bye chair to stay upright. His eyes snapped closed on their own, as if trying to shut out her words. But Angela just continued,

"She remembers thinking of the word "hero" that night after you died. She never got a chance to call you that, though. It made her angry."

"Stop." he begged.

"You make yourself think you aren't a hero. Vampires aren't heroes."

"Please, stop." he begged a little louder.

"I'm going to ask you a favor, Spike," she said smoothly and without emotion.

"No." he pleaded, feeling his own tears try and push their way past his eyes.

"I'm going to ask you a favor and I want you to be the hero you were for her."

"Oh, god…" he felt himself losing his hold on the emotions that were bombarding him. Why was she telling him this? What the hell did she want from him? He wanted to scream in her face; make her go away. He wanted to make her run screaming from him. No one was supposed to call him a hero. No one was—

"I want you to kill me, Spike."

His head suddenly snapped up to meet her gaze. For the first time in a few years, fear actually clouded his eyes.

"What?" he breathed, so sure he had heard her wrong.

"I'm a weapon. I should think that you of all people would understand that," she explained, reaching into her lap and picking at the hem of her shirt. "I know what's going to happen and I have to change it."

"No."

"Yes." she insisted, standing up forcefully and taking a step forward.

"Stop pretending you aren't a hero. Stop thinking you can make everything go away by ignoring it. I'm here, Spike, but I wont be for long. They'll find me and use me." she said a little louder, her voice taking on a charge that Spike had never noticed before. She took another step forward and reached a hand out to his face. He flinched away, eyes wide.

"They'll use me to hurt the ones Angel loves. That's their way." she said softly, her hand reaching out again and brushing against his cheek. He didn't move away from her this time. "And I'll kill you first,"

At that Spike moved back a step.

"One of us is going to die. I want you to live as the hero; not die as the coward."

_Continued..._


	8. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight

"The Senior Partners aren't very happy." Eve said, sitting on the edge of his desk. Angel glanced up from his stack of papers.

"Well, they'd better get used to that," he said curtly. "Angela isn't going anywhere." he looked back down to his papers and flipped through a small pile beside him.

"Look, Angel--" Eve began. Angel's head snapped back up before she could finish.

"This isn't a discussion," he said, narrowing his eyes. "Angela stays."

Eve sighed and gazed out the window of Angel's office. "Why do you feel like you suddenly have to protect her?"

"She's a Slayer."

"She was a Slayer yesterday when you agreed to hand her over. What's changed?"

Angel suddenly exploded. He stood up quickly, slamming his hands down on his desk. "This is not a discussion."

"I think it needs to be."

"What you need is not what—"

"She got into your head didn't she?" Eve asked, crossing her arms over her chest. The curve of her lips gave way to the emotion of triumph. Angel froze, narrowing his eyes.

"What happened is none of your business," he said softly, eyes turned toward the window. Suddenly, it was the most entertaining part of the room. "So, tell the Senior Partners that they'd better find someone else." he growled.

"What did she say to you?" Eve prodded, pushing the proverbial envelope.

"Nothing."

"Well, then you felt something, Champ. No one changes your mind like that without saying something powerful." she said, the smile still edging at her lips.

"Are we done?" Angel asked, crossing his arms over his chest and sitting back down in his chair. With a small sigh, he pressed two fingers against the bridge of his nose.

Eve rolled her eyes and shifted slightly. It only took a sharp look from Angel before she turned and headed toward the door, her hips swinging seductively. As she reached for the doornob, she turned slightly.

"They'll find her."

"And I'll stop them." Angel replied softly. To him, the answer was simple. The girl stayed and the Partners got over it. Figuring out what happened after that wasn't on his mind yet. As he stood up, he silently asked himself the same question Eve had presented. Why _was_ he protecting her?

_That_ answer wasn't so simple. He sighed and rubbed his hands across his face, heading for the small elevator. The only thing he knew was that she had been inside his head for quite a while.

And the grief she left behind was unbearable.

_Continued..._


	9. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine

She sat quietly in front of the mirror, looking at the empty room behind her. She felt him standing there, but it intrigued her that he wasn't reflected in the mirror. Spike's room was almost exactly like hers. It fascinated her that such identical rooms could feel so different from one another.

"I wonder why God never gave vampires reflections." she asked quietly, chocking her head slightly to the side. Spike chuckled weakly and shook his head.

"Don't think God has anything to do with it, love. Last I checked, we undead go to Hell." he said quietly, taking a few steps toward the mirror. Angela didn't turn around, but Spike could see her smiling in the mirror.

"Don't be ridiculous. God created everything." she pushed her long blonde hair off of her neck for the first time and Spike could see the tiny gold cross perched on her neck. "Even you, William."

Spike stopped walking forward and narrowed his eyes. "So, that's it, isn't it?"

Angela finally turned around and gave him a crooked little smile.

"You want me ta off you so it's not a sin," he said, eyes still trained on her necklace. Angela just sighed, that smile still perched on her lips. "Once was a good Christian boy myself."

"I can't go to Heaven without you," she said, looking to the ground and shaking her head deeply. "Not even sure Slayers can go to heaven."

Spike finally tore his gaze away from the necklace and shifted on his feet. Restlessly, he brought a hand up to the back of his neck and let it rest there a minute. Angela didn't say anything. It was the awkward moment of all awkward moments.

After the long few minutes of dead silence, Angela quickly stood up, startling Spike slightly. She looked critically at him again, as if she were trying to find a way to look right through him.

"Do you think I'll go to Heaven, Spike?"

"I don' know, love."

"I want to go to Heaven."

"I know."

"Then you'll help me." she stated simply, eyes still trained on his. She was still trying to look inside him and it made Spike a little uncomfortable. So, he looked away; anywhere but at her.

"I'll help you." he finally answered, quietly. The idea of killing a Slayer used to excite him. It used to bring a charge to his demon that he couldn't describe. Now it just made him sick. She was barely 17, barely old enough to even think about what life was, but already she was asking for death. A part of Spike realized that what he was about to do was seriously wrong. It screamed at him to turn around and run away; that whatever her problem was, it wasn't his and there was nothing he could do about it.

But it was the other part of him that he was listening to. The part that had been awake and alert when the First decided to use him against the only person he'd truly loved enough to die for. He remembered all the horrible emotions that flooded him when he knew he couldn't control the way he was acting. It broke his unbeating heart to know that when he was asleep, he was hurting the people he cared about and the people that Buffy cared about.

To be used as a weapon was hard enough. Not being able to stop it is even harder…

"I'll help you, love." he repeated, flashing a sad little smile. Angela nodded and pulled the collar of her shirt down so her neck was exposed.

"Thank you…" she whispered as he shifted to game face.

_Continued..._


	10. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten

After he felt her heart stop beating, he let down his game face and cradled her limp body in his arms. He hated the sensation of dead weight against his chest and he felt like he was about to be sick. Even with the Slayer blood thrumming through his veins he felt dead inside.

Part of him wished he could give it back; give back all the blood he'd taken. But, the world never worked that way and he was stuck with the decision he'd made.

With a small sigh, he lifted her onto the bed and pulled the blankets up over her cooling body. As he smoothed the material over her belly, he noticed the little gold cross again around her neck. It had fallen into a red pool on her collarbone and the little gold figure nailed to the crucifix was crimson and wet. Cocking his head slightly he reached out and touched it with his fingertips. They came away wet and sizzling, but the little face of the man was no longer bloody.

_I want to go to Heaven…_

The next hour he stood by the window and waited for the sunrise. He wondered if God did make vampires like Angela said.

There was a sudden rush of movement from the doorway and he felt strong arms yank him out of the patch of sunlight that had begun to crawl up his ankles. There were voices yelling. Someone growled.

He fell down on his knees, the rug burning his kneecaps. He didn't much care about that.

"…get her down there now."

"…she's been dead for hours, Angel."

He heard voices talking about taking her away. He heard Angel say his name and yank him to his feet. The blinds were closed now. Someone must have feared for his safety. Or maybe just Angel's safety.

"What the hell did you do?" Angel asked roughly, shaking him slightly. Spike felt time rush back at him and he had to blink a few times before he realized what was going on. Angel had him by the shoulders and pushed against the wall. Wesley was leaning over Angela, looking up at Spike. His face was a little confused, but more pained.

"Give me one good reason why I don't stake you right here and now…" Angel hissed. Spike just blinked heavily, head lolling to the side to glance down at Angela.

"Haven't got one." he replied weakly. Time was about to go back to slow motion. He didn't mind. Things were easier to take in when he didn't know what was going on.

Spike felt something heavy slam into his face. It didn't break anything, but it made him go slightly blind for a minute. It took him a while to realize it was Angel's fist that had hit him and when he finally understood, he just nodded and let his head fall to his chest.

_Blessed black_, he thought as he closed his eyes.

"He's been out for a long time."

"I didn't even hit him that hard."

"I don't think it was because you hit him."

Spike's eyes fluttered open and he blinked when a bright light invaded his vision. He took a slight look around, wondering where the hell he was. When he saw Wesley squatting in front of him, arms resting on his knees, he squinted slightly.

"Wha's goin' on?" he asked, his voice heavy. His chin hurt for some reason. He heard heavy steps coming at him, but they stopped when Wesley held up his hand.

"Can you tell me what happened, Spike?" he asked in a calm, smooth voice. Spike closed his eyes again, shaking his head to clear it. Wesley must have taken it as a 'No' because he just sighed and stood up. Angel must have been close by; he started to say something to Wesley, but Spike's hearing wouldn't work well enough for him to understand the conversation.

A few moments passed before Spike found himself hauled to his feet without warning. As he was about to protest, he looked square into the eyes of his Sire.

"You and I are going to have a little chat." he said, the look in his eyes telling Spike that he was doing everything in his power not to hit him.

_Continued..._


	11. Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

His head connected with the wall behind him and he found it difficult not to laugh. Angel was trying so hard to make it hurt, but Spike didn't have the nerve to tell him that it didn't.

"You think this is what I deserve?" Spike asked, nose bleeding down over his top lip. Angel's eyes swam with hatred and it took him a minute to realize Spike had actually said something.

"No, I think you deserve worse, but Wes wont let me kill you." he snapped, sending out another ringing blow that connected with Spike's stomach. Spike groaned and doubled over.

"What happened, Spike? Start talking before I get really violent." Angel hissed into his ear.

"You wouldn't understand." Spike whispered back, the laugh still bubbling on his lips. Angel sighed angrily and took a step back.

"Try me. I want to know what gives you the right—"

"Ain't got no _right_." he replied quickly, looking Angel in the eye before wiping the blood off his nose.

"Why'd you kill her, Spike?" Angel asked evenly, arms crossing over his chest to give the illusion that he was a few feet taller than he actually was. He was menacing anyway, but the way he looked down at Spike always gave the younger vampire a lingering sensation of fear. Spike hated being afraid. Especially being afraid of Angel.

"I told you, you wouldn't understand."

Angel waited, eyes patiently trained on Spike. "I will kill you." he said simply. Spike narrowed his eyes and realized that maybe Angel wasn't lying. For a brief moment he almost asked Angel to do it, but his senses quickly returned and he settled on forming an explanation.

"They were going to find her."

"Who?"

"The Senior blokes." he replied angrily. _Shut your gob an' let me finish,_ he wanted to say. But he was pretty sure that would earn him another punch in his already aching face.

"I wasn't going to turn her over, Spike. She knew that."

"Doesn't matter. They would find her. They always find her." he said, looking down at his feet. Was it shame that made him look away? He wasn't sure, but he didn't want to look at Angel anymore.

"Spike…"

"They were gonna take her away and use her, Angel. She's a powerful Slayer and a powerful psychic. She could rip your heart right outta your chest by just looking at you," Spike shouted, pushing away from the wall and taking a few steps toward his Sire. "You bloody well knew that." Angel's expression changed then. To Spike it looked a little like understanding.

"That's not a reason to kill her."

"No?" he asked sarcastically, hands on his hips.

"No. I was going to protect her, keep her out of their sight. She was safe, Spike!" Angel protested, the look of understanding shifting to rock hard pain. Angel was feeling it too. The emotion of grief was too strong for his soul to ignore and it was beginning to show.

"She was never gonna be safe. She asked for it anyway."

"Doesn't make it right."

"Didn't say it was." Spike whispered, looking back down at the floor near his feet. Shame was a powerful emotion as well. He sighed and brought a hand to his head.

"Look, I didn't do it because _I_ thought it was right. I did it because _she_ thought it was. She just," he stopped, looking back at Angel. His expression was blank. "She just didn't want to end up the enemy. End up the weapon. End up out of control."

There was a long silence. Spike averted his eyes again, darting his gaze around the room. _Can't do this…I'm such an idiot…_ he thought, glancing at the mahogany desk across the room.

"Out of control," Angel repeated. Silence again. Spike shifted his weight and glanced at his Sire. The pain was back. "Like you." he finally said. Spike sighed and nodded.

"Yea, like me."

Angel sighed too and stuffed his hands into his pockets. It seemed that the anger had simply washed out of him and left an empty shell standing there with a sad and pitiful look on his face.

"Why did she ask you?" Angel asked suddenly. Spike just shrugged.

"Guess she figured I'd understand. Play with my heartstrings, so to speak." Spike replied, nodding.

"You didn't have to kill her." Angel said weakly. It sounded like he was trying to convince himself.

"Yeah, I did," Spike replied gravely. "Bein' like that, knowin' the Big Bad's after you. No one can live like that. No one wants to be out of control, Angel. Not even you."

The silence was back. Angel must have been turning Spike's words over because his brow was furrowed slightly and a frown creased his lips. It occurred to Spike that maybe he was thinking about all that Buffy had told him about last summer. About Spike. About the First and about the soul. Maybe Angel really did understand. Spike inwardly chuckled and realized the error in his thinking. Angel never understood much of anything Spike did. It was rare that they ever saw eye to eye.

"You gonna do it?"

"What?" Angel's head snapped up curiously.

"Kill me." Spike said, meeting his Sire's gaze. The look was blank again.

"No." he replied, shaking his head.

Spike didn't even ask why. He just let Angel turn and walk away, hands still stuck in his pockets, head hung in a symbol of quiet defeat.

"I understand." he said stiffly as he opened the door. "I get it, Spike."

The door to the office shut with a click and Spike was alone.

_Epilogue…_


	12. Epilogue

_Epilogue_

I think in the end, we're all searching for someone who understands us. We all dream of the day when we finally meet the one person who knows us better than we know ourselves. We all wake up begging for the same thing: "Please..."

Spike was always searching for that person; always begging. I think it was because when Drusilla sired him, she didn't just bring another vampire into the world; another hunter. She brought forward a demon who always had a soul, and a demon who always wanted to be understood. I think, finally, after all the pain and heartache and anguish, Spike found the one person he could share it with. And I think that's all he ever really wanted.

I wonder if it ripped him up when he realized it wasn't Buffy after all...?

I don't blame him for what he did. I mean, I can be pissed, but I can't be angry. For the first time in...well, in forever, I think I understand Spike's logic. As twisted and demented as his logic may be, I think I finally understand.

All this time, all these years, he just wanted someone to share what he was feeling...no matter what that feeling was. He was always begging for just an ounce, just a crumb of a nod from anyone. I never gave it to him and I don't think Buffy ever did either.

But Angela did. And even for just a brief moment, Spike wasn't alone in the world he so often tried to inhabit. He wasn't just a walking ghost or someone's dog on a leash. He was a hero.

Maybe now he'll finally stop begging, "Please..."

9:15AM - _Angel_

_Fin_


End file.
